Demonic Courting
by Terri Ceep
Summary: Babysitting Dante was far from Nero's ideal job. And that was without having to deal with the elder hunter's devil side running free and attempting to woo him. Devil/Triggered!Dante throughout.
1. Playing Dress Up

**Author's Notes: **My first Devil May Cry fiction, and I'm really pumped up about it; I've fallen in love with DantexNero - especially if it involves triggered/devil Dante; my inner fangirl has an odd _fondness _for it... So yes, be **warned; **this is devil/triggered Dante **throughout.** I also apologise in advance if there's an OOCness - though I have read enough DMC for that not to be an issue, I hope.

I'm also looking for a BETA reader - as I hear they're called, so PM me if you're interested; having another's opinion would really help me; mistakes and such aren't easy to notice yourself, for whatever reason... Even just a review noting layout advice and typos would be much appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything - not the cover image, the characters, or anything else. Which I should think is obvious; if I did, do you really think I'd be here writing fanfiction and not elsewhere creating a lovely game with more Nero? Not likely.

* * *

**- - Demonic Courting - -**

Nero glared up at the dirty building, eyeing the tatty neon sign labeling the business as 'Devil May Cry' with disbelief. But then again, from what he knew of Dante, the sign certainly fit the older man's style: flashy, cheesy, and somewhat cheap. The 'D' even began flickering, and Nero shook his head in amusement.

_'Why am I here, again?'_

"Well, brat, you just going to stand there?"

Ah, Lady. That's why. The female devil hunter had made an unexpected call at his doorstep with the offer of a job and seventy percent payment. And from the figures, Nero had been hard-pressed to say no.

Still, standing before the old man's home for the first time, Nero felt the urge to refuse, no matter the pay; though he hadn't seen the other since the Savior incident - which was well over a year ago - Nero could clearly remember how irritating the man was, and that was when he'd been trying to kill him, never-mind working with him.

"Well, brat?"

But then, he'd never left the island of Fortuna, and Nero didn't fancy wondering the midnight streets of Capulet; from what he'd seen in passing, the places were as different as you could get. No matter the hour of Fortuna, the only threat came from the odd low-class demons that would manage to sneak into the city; the population was small (even more so after all the Hell Gates had been opened a year ago), with not even two hundred residents, and with the lack of anything modern, people mixed to the point everyone seemed to know one-another. It was the type of place where crimes wouldn't go unnoticed, and where people had the same mindset - that such acts were unholy. It was because of this outsiders were rare, and that any that did visit were somewhat shunned. Nero imagined Capulet was nothing like his hometown - people wouldn't glare at him hatefully for his differences. That didn't mean he was taking off his sling, though.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled; really, she'd only got worse since they'd met, and even that hadn't left the best first impression.

* * *

_Of all the things he'd planned today, having a strange, overly sized weapon-wielding woman show up on his doorstep wasn't one of them. And sunglasses?_

_'Who the hell wears sunglasses in this weather?'_

_"You're Nero, right?"_

_Fingers twitching, Nero readied himself to pull Blue Rose from her holster; it was obvious the woman wasn't a resident of Fortuna; if the rocket-launcher strapped to her back didn't give it away, then her clothes definitely did. They were basically non-existent; her shorts barely passed for shorts, and though blazers were intended as a over-layer, she wore hers as a shirt. A shirt which did hardly anything to cover her breasts. Not that Nero was looking._

_"Who's asking?"_

_"Lady," she smirked, strutting through the door. Nero almost staggered over himself in his rush to move, blushing red when she moved to take a seat on the room's shabby couch, breasts bouncing as she fell down._

_...Definitely not looking._

_"You finished staring, brat?"_

_Nero sobered at the woman's cocky attitude, stepping forward with Blue Rose raised._

_"With the size of that thing," he gestured to Kalina-Ann, now rested at her side. "I somehow figure you haven't come here looking for my help."_

_"I suppose you could say that," she chuckled, pulling off her sunglasses to reveal mismatched hazel and green eyes. A clearly self-shaped eyebrow was raised and a frown took set on her face as their eyes met. Her gaze was hard, promising, and she looked none-too-pleased at the gun pointed at her face. Still, until he had answers, Nero felt caution was the better option._

_"So what _have_ you come here for..._Lady?_"_

_She chuckled once more, smirking up at him. "It's funny you should ask, _brat..._"_

* * *

Following Lady through the store's double doors, Nero stood awkwardly as she ventured further inside, her steps unusually heavy as she shouted their return. Nero hadn't known the woman long, but one thing he'd noted down was that her movements were shockingly quiet for a full-blooded human. He also couldn't help but note the building wasn't any better on the inside.

In fact, Nero felt it was safe to say it was much worse; beer cans and pizza boxes littered every surface available; the bin was long-since filled, and the furniture looked decades old: a red, battered-down leather couch was placed to the left of the room, and to the right was a set of stairs and an old wooden desk. The walls were covered with quite the collection Devil Arms and demon heads, which Nero secretly admitted was pretty impressive. Not that he'd ever actually tell the old man that. Pride, an' all.

"Trish, I brought the brat back!"

The woman that came down the stairs was just as dressy as Lady. Nero was being to wonder if it was a requirement put in to be able to work at the shop, or if it was that the three were just simply mad; she wore a tight, black leather corset and matching leather pants. And going with the odd smile on their faces, Nero decided the latter option was most likely the case.

"Hey, sweetie," she greeted. "You probably know me as Gloria?"

Nero's eyes widened in recognition, a small blush lighting his features; they'd only met once, but Nero clearly remembered the impressive and..._showy _performance she'd put on while killing of a relatively large group of scarecrows. Every move had been precise and calculated, which was a way aways from his own style of jumping in, all passion and spirit.

"That was you?" he spoke up curiously.

She laughed through her smile, patting his shoulder. "Take care of him, would you?"

Had her tone not been oddly maternal, Nero would've thought she was joking about the old man's incompetence, and he could only watch, baffled, as the two left through the shop's doors without so much as an explanation. It took a minute of stunned silence before he burst through the doors himself, eyeing the empty streets for the two women. But he saw nothing, and reluctantly walked back into the store to take a seat on the couch, still oddly anxious as he rested Red Queen beside it. Ever since he'd entered the city his devil bringer had ached with the tell-tale sign of a demon, and it had the younger hunter on edge. When he'd questioned Lady about it she'd claimed it was similar to a sensory overload; he'd come from living in Fortuna his whole life, which had only to deal with a minimal number of lower-class demons, to Capulet City, which was filled to the brim with all classes and species of demons and devils. But even so, he'd couldn't stop the instinctual adrenaline rush that came with his bringer's signals. However, being in the Devil May Cry office had oddly calmed the feelings somewhat - but Nero still felt overwhelmed, and it was beginning to exhaust him.

The temptation to close his eyes for just a second was too much, and Nero found himself drifting off - and probably would've done, if the sudden crash from upstairs hadn't shocked him back onto his feet. Quickly deeming Red Queen useless within the tight confines of the shop, Nero wasted no time dashing up the steps, Blue Rose in hand. What he found, though, definitely wasn't what he expected.

Splinters of wood covered the landing from the broken bathroom door, and the bathroom itself? All the taps were running and the shower head hanging out the tub, flooding the floor. Nero tucked away Blue Rose, cursing as he rushed over to switch the shower off.

_'What the fuck is that idiot doing?'_

He turned off the taps, too, and then took an obviously dumped towel off the nearby rack to mop up the majority of the water. The floor was still damp when he'd finished, but that would dry itself, and Nero refused to play at being the old man's maid. He'd come here to deal with a demon, not babysit Dante.

That in mind, Nero followed the wet patches out of the bathroom and down the landing to what was, presumably, Dante's room - and too pissed to care for decency, Nero pushed through the door, determined to kick some sense into the other hunter's head; if the elder thought Nero was here to clean up his mess, he was in for a surprise. In the form of bullets, that is.

"Old man! If you think I'm-"

But yet again, the sight that greeted him wasn't one he had expected. Dante was sat on the floor beside his drawers, throwing the contents about the room. Nero noticed, though, that lay next to the older man was a few neatly placed items. Confused, he watched as the other stopped his scattering to examine a small cube-like object he'd found, sniffing the item as it began to faintly glow a light red. Seeming satisfied with his find, he delicately placed it with his other collected items and continued searching through the furniture's contents.

_That _wasn't the part that necessarily shocked the younger man, however; Dante was odd by nature. No. What had frozen Nero in place was the sight of crimson, demonic hide - similar to that of his Devil Bringer, only..._bigger._ Bigger as in it covered the man.

Dante wasn't..._human._

"...Dante?"

The elder half devil shot round with a growl, irises pure red. And before Nero could even process anything, he'd unconsciously stumbled back and out of the room. Perhaps it was his own devil side - though admittedly it wasn't a prominent as red hunter's - which had fueled his reaction, but since the other had stopped emitting the threatening noises the moment he'd left the room, Nero cared little for the reason. Because right now Dante wasn't...well, he _was _Dante, but not the cocky, confident, _human _part of himself. This was Dante's devil side, and for whatever reason, it wasn't merely influencing the hunter as was often normal (or so Nero had found it to often be), it was fully in control. Nero couldn't understand why he knew this, but his bringer was throbbing to the point it actually hurt and something in his gut warned Nero to tread carefully.

_'Don't tell me this is the demon I'm supposed to 'deal with'?'_

The sudden urge to strangle Lady was almost overwhelming.

"You in there, old man?"

Dante's answering growl confirmed Nero's suspicions that the other's human side wasn't conscious; it seemed as if the words didn't even register, and at this point, Nero expected the other to be throwing 'kid' back in his face. Amongst other insults.

Nero remained where he was as Dante stood and began stalking towards him, eyeing his sling-covered Devil Bringer rather oddly; suddenly he felt the 'important' rules Lady had prattled off on their journey back weren't so useless, afterall:

_**'Don't invade their personal** **territory.'**_

Meaning the bedroom, most likely; going by the elder's reaction.

**_'Don't run away or turn your back. Unless you want it chewed on, that__ is.'_**

With the way the other was staring, Nero couldn't decide whether that was wise or just plain dumb.

**_'Don't challenge it. Just play along and let it think it's the big bad__ boss.'_**

Of which was walking closer still. Nero took another step, back hitting the landing wall.

**_'And this is probably the most important rule of all,_ _brat;'_**

The devil was practically pressed against his chest at this point, eyes still on the sling.

**_'Do NOT steal the__ pizza.'_**

Nero had snorted at that one, thinking the woman was attempting a joke, but now recalling all the empty boxes of such food he'd seen downstairs...Lady was probably serious.

_'Don't tell me the bastard _lives _on that junk?'_

Not that now was the time to be contemplating the other's eating habits; what with the devil practically caging him against the wall. And Nero wouldn't lie - inside the privacy of his own mind, that is - that he wasn't just the least bit worried; yes, this was still Dante, and though he knew (or hoped so, at least) the other would never harm him too badly, even during a spar, he couldn't say the same of him while in this state; devils were _much _more instinctual, afterall; and if Dante saw him as a threat right now? There was little hope of Nero fending him off, even with his own trigger. Hell, he'd have better chances playing dead.

Nero flinched as the other raised a clawed hand, and couldn't help but wonder what those two harpies had been thinking, leaving him here. Or if they'd even thought it through at all.

He needn't have worried, though; it seemed the other's aim was the fabric concealing his demonic arm; Dante had made quick work of tearing it off and into un-salvageable shreds. Then, much to Nero's surprise, Dante pulled his arm up to begin examining it much like he'd done so with the cube he'd taken from the drawers, running his own talons over the glowing blue hide. And Nero, not used to anyone even looking at his arm - let alone voluntarily touching it - froze, breath catching in his throat with an audible gasp. Scarlet eyes shot up to meet his own icy blue ones, and Nero dared not even breathe; the devil's gaze was that intense.

It lasted but a few seconds, though, and Nero soon found himself being yanked along by his Bringer back into the other's room and onto the floor, where Dante presented him with one of the objects he'd collected. Nero raised an eyebrow, admittedly surprised as he reached out his human hand to take it from the elder. It was a small bracelet - pure gold by the looks of it, and was inscribed with demonic script. He couldn't read it, but he'd come across it enough times in Fortuna to recognise it.

Done looking the item over, Nero moved to place it back besides the others, but a low grumbling made him pause.

_'How moody can one demon be?'_

Dante's behaviour had been odd enough as a human (Nero still couldn't understand why he'd been given Yamato), but this was bordering on ridiculous: Threatened out the room, pulled back in. Voluntarily given an item, growled at over said item. Lady's warnings still ran in his head; playing along was all well and good, but Nero was a little stuck with this game, and he didn't fancy having his back chewed on for not following the rules. So instead, the younger hunter tried holding out the piece for Dante to take back. Not that it worked; since he was growling again.

"What the hell, old man!"

In a huff, Nero made to get up and leave, suddenly uncaring of the consequences. Not that that worked, either; since the elder had quickly dragged him back down. Nero sighed, brows furrowed.

"Do you even know what I'm saying?"

There was no recognition on the red devil's face, however; just expectation. Nero eyed the trinket in his hand once more, trying to figure out the other's intentions. What could the senile old man possibly want him to do with a bracelet...? The only thing Nero could think to do with it was -

_' - Don't tell me he wants me to wear this thing?'_

It wasn't that Nero didn't trust the hunter not to purposely curse him, but he didn't have the impression that Dante as the kind of man to keep a piece of jewelry laying around because it was pretty.

Nero sighed, annoyance slipping through as he slipped on the bracelet - albeit reluctantly. But when his skin didn't start melting, or his organs didn't start dissolving, Nero felt safe enough to keep it on.

_'Playing dress up, huh? Looks like I really am the old bastard's babysitter.'_

Waving his arm in front of the other, Nero let out a rather sarcastic snort. "Happy now, ol- _Let the fuck go!_"

Dante had grabbed his human arm this time, and was - oddly enough - purring as his talons twisted the trinket around Nero's wrist. And the younger hunter, admittedly, would've found it hilarious. If he wasn't so pissed off.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

Said asshole merely continued his purring as he presented Nero with the next of his objects, watching his reaction as intently as the first time. This one was a rusted amulet - it was decorated with a diamond and around each point was a semi-circle and within that was a cross. Nero clipped the chain together at the back of his neck, eyeing the overly pleased devil with obvious distaste.

"I'll kill you for this later, old man."

Of course, though, Dante was clueless to the threat, and contentedly continued with his game.


	2. Dog for Dinner?

**Author's Notes: **I've never written anything so quickly in my life. Well, tell a lie; I've been forced to write a lot quicker during my exams, but that doesn't count, really; that wasn't something I volunteered for or did for my own enjoyment. Which, speaking of, I get my results on the 15th!

I hope the emotions came off in this properly and don't seem OOC; I've always viewed Nero to be the one which can't hold himself back with such things; he's easily annoyed, quickly angered, and can honestly shed tears. I also get the impression he feels great empathy for anyone he sees himself in - Dante being one of those people. So yes, I hope I managed to convey them properly. There's also more focus on Dante in this chapter, which was insanely fun to write, I must say. And Dante's little nickname for Nero is so sweet.

The Seal of Venus amulet symbolises love and a happy marriage. Image here: www . themysticcorner images/Venus_Amulet_1 . jpg

Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed/fav'ed/followed the first chapter!

**Side Notes: 10/8/13, 23:52 **I love drunk people. Seriously, you've not laughed hard enough until you've seen your dad talking to one of your family dogs and attempting to make him drink out of a straw; "You've just got no faith, kid." Or you've seen your family friend/dubbed uncle trying to eat when he can barely stand; "Oh hey, I've got some kebab here. Oh no, it's chicken bone." I love my family. Wouldn't replace them for anything. Even if they are mad as fuck.

* * *

**- - Demonic Courting - -**

"We're back, boys!"

Nero was down the stairs in an instant, covered head to toe in all of Dante's collected trinkets. He pointed at Lady, snarling viciously.

"_You!_"

To say the hunter was angry would be beyond an understatement; after three hours of Dante's company, Nero had all but lost his humanity. They'd been sat for the first two hours going through the two sets of drawers in the other's room - and Nero had been dressed up in every object Dante deemed good enough: which included everything from rings to head-dresses to anklets. And only when Dante decided he was decorated enough was he allowed to leave the room. Nero had stormed off into the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water (he tried to ignore thoughts about when it'd last been cleaned) fast enough to choke himself.

Finished, he'd wiped his mouth as he lent over the sink, trying to cool his head - eventually re-filling the glass and sipping it down at a more steady pace. That was when he decided that as soon as Lady came back he would beat the woman before he left; afterall, he was a devil _hunter, _not a babysitter. Nero huffed, turning to head back into the main office room and wait for his chosen victim to return. Nothing seemed to be going as planned for the younger man today, however, and he was shocked enough to find Dante stood behind him that he dropped the glass.

_"I swear to fuck, Dante, I'm gunner shoot your wrinkly ass!"_

That had been the point Nero had figured out the elder understood at least one thing - his own name. But as inexplainably pleased at the development as he was, Nero was equally as unnerved that the other had managed to follow behind him without being noticed. He was also pissed he'd had to clean up broken glass and spend the next hour putting up with the devil sticking himself to Nero's side as if they were opposing velcro pieces.

In fact, the elder was still following him.

"Fuck your pay," he stormed over to collect Red Queen, Dante close behind him. "I'm leaving!"

Lady sniggered. "Dressed like that?"

Growling, Nero turned, Blue Rose raised; he'd had enough. Lady had her own pistol up just as quickly, however - stubbornly ignoring Trish's advise against it. And that was when Nero got his next shock of the evening; rather than his gun pointing at Lady as he'd intended, he found Dante's back to be in her place; the devil was growling dangerously at his long-time friend as he stood between the pair, leaving the room in stunned silence.

"Put the gun down, Lady," Trish spoke up, careful not to startle the elder with her tone.

The next few seconds were laced with tension, but the woman eventually thought better of it and lowered her weapon, backing away from the red devil in surrender. Not that she looked too pleased about it.

And not that Dante seemed to mind; apparently deeming his mission done, he was now watching Nero with a sort of expecting, smug pride. The younger hunter - who'd long since holstered Blue Rose - snorted at the other. What was he hoping for - a pat on the head? Nero felt confident he could've dealt with Lady himself, but then, he had to remind himself that Dante hadn't done it to show him up or rub in his superiority; those were his human traits. Dante had done this out of instinct; acting how his gut felt was best for the situation. Though the drive behind it left Nero confused and clueless; he'd been the one to first raise his weapon, and it was obvious the two had known each other a long while, whereas Nero had met the other hunter only once - and over a year ago, at that - so why defend him over Lady? If Nero was the honest type, he would have easily admitted the swelling in his chest was an odd form of growing affection.

But Nero wasn't the honest type, so instead he huffed, crossing his arms (which was rather awkward, since his human arm was still near-enough covered in Dante's trinkets). "Thanks, old man, but I could've dealt with it myself."

He walked around Dante, then, glaring heatedly at Lady as he tried to block out the devil's purring behind him.

"Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me I'd be babysitting the old man?"

"Because you would've refused."

Which was true, so Nero couldn't really argue against that. Instead, he looked questioningly over at Trish, who - to Nero's pleasant surprise - was staring the other woman down just as hard as he was.

"I wasn't aware she hadn't said anything," she answered, turning her gaze to his. "But please understand, Nero, that we really need your help, here."

"But why _my _help? Surely there are others who can-"

"No," Trish cut in sharply, eyes firm and slightly pleading. "No one else can be trusted. No one else can_ understand._"

He turned away, nervously scratching at his nose. Understand what?_  
_

"Nero, _please _understand."

But he didn't. How could he? Dante clearly had others to help him; he struck Nero to be an overly-social person - quick to win over allies and friends with his idiotic charm. How could they say there was no one else? At the very least, they were more fitted to the role than he was; he barely knew the other.

"I don't-"

"Look, brat," Lady started up. "There's only two half devils - that we know about, anyway - on this planet. You," she pointed, "and him. Only you can understand how he'll feel when he gets his 'right' mind back. _We _may be able to figure it out, but we won't _understand; _there's a big difference. He'll be pissed at himself, yeah - angry he let it happen and couldn't stop it or didn't even realise what was happening. But that's not just it, right?"

Nero had listened to the whole speech in utter shock; his suspicion that Dante's human mind wasn't even the slightest bit conscious being confirmed striking worry through his chest. And the thought that it could happen to himself? Nero shivered, grabbing at his Devil Bringer in shame. Because Lady was right; Dante wouldn't just be angry. He'd be ashamed that he'd lost control - and he'd worry every day it could happen again. He'd go over every possible bad situation he could've created - and he'd be haunted every time he slept by those thoughts in the form of nightmares. And eventually he'd be driven mad with doubt and self-pity. Nero had nearly reached that point himself, once, and it was Dante that brought him back. Nero could still remember those feeling that had clawed at his chest when Agnus had taken Kyrie - when he'd failed to protect his only family. He'd hated himself, felt nothing but the aching need to claw straight through his chest to have the pain go away. But instead, driven by revenge, he'd beaten the engraved, concrete floor with his Devil Bringer until he could no longer lift the limb. He'd cried the worst of it out, barely keeping a hold of the newly awakened presence in the back of his mind - and somewhat finding himself thinking that it'd be better to lost control. Dante had beaten it back down enough for Nero to _think, _though, and he hadn't gotten that close to handing his mind over ever since. But Dante _had _lost his human mind - was purely his devil-self - so Nero couldn't bare to think of the consequences that would have when he woke up. _If _he woke up...

Looking back over his shoulder at the other, Nero felt his eyes welling up as he became so caught up in his thoughts. No, he really couldn't comprehend what-

For the second time that night, Nero froze in utter shock; the devil had delicately collected the single tear which had slipped - unknowingly to Nero - down his cheek, on a single of his sharp, scarlet talons. He took a second to stare with confusion between the drop of salty liquid and Nero's sorrow-filled expression before he quickly connected the actions with Nero hurting. Dante looked up at the two female devil hunters. And _they _were the cause.

Growling heavily, Dante moved to stand in front of Nero once more, stretching his claws and bending his knees as if to..._pounce?_

"Dante, _no!_"

Nero pushed himself forward to grab Dante's right arm, pulling him back almost desperately; the younger hunter could barely imagine how the other would feel if he came back and found out he'd attacked the pair. And for _Nero _of all people? Someone he hardly even knew? Like hell Nero would put that on himself or the other devil. Not that he minded all that much if Lady got beaten around a little after the shit she'd pulled... But he'd do that himself; no need to rely on Dante for it.

When the other showed no sign of listening, Nero tugged harder, tears falling in frustration as he growled a little, himself. "Dante! Don't!"

And that was it. The devil gave in with one last growl and meaningful look in Lady and Trish's direction - turning to smirk at Nero's tight hold on his hide-covered arm. Nero blushed cherry red, all but launching the elder's arm from his grasp - having to hold back a smile through his laughter as he did so; the expression on the other's face was the same as every other self-confident smug look he'd given Nero before all this, and the younger of the two suddenly found his resolve set.

"Fine," he looked at the two shell-shocked women. "I'll babysit the old man - but hell if I'll do it for free."

Trish was the first to come out of her stupor, aiming her own smirk at Nero. "Of course not. _We'll _pay you a thousand each."

_"WHAT!" _Lady screeched - the offer shaking her out her trance, it seemed.

"A day."

That was all it took to break the human woman, and she hit the floor with a rather loud 'thud'.

* * *

Both of them had left after that - Trish carrying the unconscious Lady over her shoulder - and left the male demon hunters to their own devices.

Nero glanced at the room's clock, his exhaustion overcoming him as he noticed it was almost four o'clock in the morning. He started taking off the jewelry Dante had dressed him up in, placing each piece onto the elder's desk. When he was down to the last two pieces (the original gold, demonic bracelet and old, rusted amulet) he felt the devil softly grab at his human wrist - and Nero, too tired to fight the other's odd behaviour, gave in with a sigh.

_'I'm doing that a lot lately...'_

"Fine, old man, they can stay - if it'll get that kicked puppy look off your face."

Dragging himself over to the the leather sofa, Nero pulled off his denim coat and dumped it wherever he could reach as he sat down, almost instantly slipping into sleep. But the steady presence still at his side pulled him back up for just a second. Nero sighed - _again - _waving the devil off as he curled up on the couch, falling asleep with his final words.

"Dante, just go sleep already."

But Dante was too busy grinning to sleep, was too content and proud to sleep (not that he even understood the other's words, mind you); his chosen one trusted Dante to protect him in his unconscious state, had kept on the demonic charm and Seal of Venus necklace. It made the urge that bubbled in his gut to roar a warning to all from the roof of the shop that his one was _his_ and to keep away stronger than ever. Nero _was_ his, and any human, demon, or devil that threatened his one would meet a swift end - and then he'd give their head to Nero, so his one could see his strength and be proud. Dante purred heavily at the thought, sitting and watching the other intently - faces only inches apart - as he watched Nero grumble in his sleep, eyelids moving with the tell-tale sign of a dream. The hide-covered devil recalled how his one had shed tears from those delicate orbs and growled lowly, claws stretching out in the need to punish the ones responsible. But his one hadn't wanted that. So for now Dante would concede to the other's wishes.

Tracing the path where the tear had fell, Dante softly brushed his talons over his one's face, a small purr vibrating in his throat.

**"Mine one."**

* * *

Waking up hadn't been a pleasant experience for Nero.

The decades-old couch had played murder on his back and he was nastily sticky with sweat - the reason why, of which, had taken him half an hour to sort out; at some point during the night it seemed as if Dante had taken it upon himself to cover up the younger hunter. And not with just a simple blanket. Oh no. Because not only had Dante brought his own king-sized duvet down, but what looked like his whole wardrobe, too. Which would have been easy enough to deal with - push them off and get up, right? But that wasn't the case; the other hunter had seemingly spent what must have been hours tucking and weaving the fabrics around Nero into a tight cocoon. For a second Nero had been oddly touched - before he realised he couldn't feel either of his legs - and had discarded the the idea of not ripping the other's clothes apart. Even then, though, moving his Devil Bringer to grab at the cloth cage had been difficult, and Nero had ended up rolling onto the floor before he'd managed it. It didn't hurt (how could it with all that padding?), but it certainly served to piss Nero off even more. As did the rest of the morning.

Free of the cloth, the next thing to get to him was the lack of any food in the shop; the cupboards and fridge looked to have seen nothing but dust for the past few years, and needless to say that when he found out, he regretted stopping Dante from chewing on the female pair last night.

After that he'd decided a shower was needed and might actually be a good way to cool his head. So digging through the pile of shredded clothing and such on the floor, Nero eventually found a usable towel and headed for the bathroom. That was where the next 'piss off Nero factor' came in to play, however; the water had been absolutely freezing and all the soaps and shampoos had be emptied - presumably by Dante - leaving Nero a cold, fuming mess.

In fact, the only decent thing about his morning was that he hadn't seen Dante at all. God knows what the devil was doing, but he hadn't been bothering Nero, so he couldn't being himself to care too much at the moment.

Still, he'd made sure to put the bangle and amulet back on after he was dressed to save himself dealing with a demonic hissy fit when he did run into the hunter. For now, though, Nero was determined to get rid of the flood of beer bottles and pizza boxes which had overtaken the office; if he was stuck here, he didn't intend to put up with the mess and the stench, even if it meant volunteering himself to clean it out.

Dumping the damp towel on the rack beside the sink, Nero left the bathroom. And that was when he'd noticed the smell.

Blood.

He'd practically dived down the stairs in his panic, all sorts of situations running through his head: _What if someone came in the shop and Dante had done something? What if _Lady _came in the shop and Dante had...__? What if-_

The sight that greeted him had completed Nero's morning. No, really - it'd topped it off just nicely: Dante was clearly there, but Nero couldn't see him, and in the middle of the office floor was a rather lovely gift. The younger hunter approached it slowly, talons twitching as he picked it up with his devil hand.

"Dante."

Said hunter popped up from behind the couch, head held high and a proud smirk on his face. Nero gestured him over with his human hand, his own head lowered as the other took the invitation - coming to stand in from of the younger hunter, chest puffed out. Nero waited, and the moment the purring started, he lost it.

_"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING, BRINGING A DEAD DOG IN HERE! AS IF THIS SHIT-HOLE DOESN'T STINK BAD ENOUGH ALREADY! GET IT OUT!"_

Throwing the present at the idiot-devil's face made him feel a _little _better, but it still didn't stop him from exploding. Especially when there was no reaction from the other.

_'I'll _seriously _kill this old bastard!'_

"THAT! Put it out there," Nero shouted, pointing between the animal and the doors. "Who knows how bad its rabies are - and what are you doing going outside in the first place, you idiot! Trish'll be pissed!"

"At what?"

Speak of the devil and they shall come, eh?

All Nero could think was _'Why the fuck did I sign up for this?'_


	3. Bath Time!

**Author's Notes:** I can't even sleep without thinking about all the lovely ideas I have in store for little Nero. This story has just brought out a drive for writing I never knew I had in me. Wonder how long it'll last...

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/fav'ed/followed so far! I never expected to get the feedback that I did.

Also, thank you to the lovely StrawberryHollow for being this story's BETA! Hopefully she can put up with me.

**Side Notes: 15/8/13** Well, my results didn't go so well... Guess that's what happens when you're too busy writing to listen in class.

**16/8/13** The best thing ever happened to me today! My best friend bought DMC4 and even though she was terrified of yaoi, has become a DantexNero fan! I've never fangirled so much in my life! And we've decided we're both going to have a son and I'll call mine Nero and she'll call hers Dante! I could not be happier. **If you're reading this, Lime, YO!**

**25/8/13** I wrote most of this while drunk. So, people, please enjoy my alcohol-influenced fluff!

* * *

**- - Demonic Courting - -**

After hearing out and laughing over Nero's situation, Trish left with the promise of food and toiletries.

Nero was quick to throw the corpse out when she left - ignoring his devil companion's obvious pouting - before he started working on the boxes and bottles, bagging them up with some carriers he'd found stuffed in the back of one of the kitchen draws. He'd been prepared to do the task alone, but oddly enough, Dante was quick to join in, and Nero watched in fascination as the elder went about the room, plucking up bottles with such intense concentration. Honestly, Nero had never seen anything like it.

Just imagine the shock Trish got when she came back into the shop, another dreaded box and a few bags of her own in hand. She put them on the desk before turning to Nero, smirk in place.

"It seems as if the Son of Sparda has been domesticated. Nice work, sweetie."

Blushing madly, Nero pushed past her with the excuse of taking the rubbish bags out to the skip in the alley besides the shop.

"Nero, honey, is everything okay?"

It wasn't. Not really; it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since Nero had agreed to take care of the older devil hunter and he was already regretting his decision. He did _want_ to help, but would this arrangement really work? Coping with the devil's behaviour thus far was already testing Nero's limits. The only reason he'd agreed in the first place was because he felt sorry for the other, which probably wasn't the best of reasons to be doing this, and he doubted Dante would appreciate him having helped because of pity. Even Nero himself didn't like the idea.

"How did- " He took a second to look over at Dante, who was now playing with the jukebox, randomly pressing buttons and watching with childish glee as the neon-coloured lighting changed with and followed each song. "...What happened?"

"We don't know. Lady came over three days ago when he wasn't answering the phone and found him like this. It likely happened during his last job, but... Well, at least he had enough sense to come back here and not wonder off," she chuckled.

"I guess so..."

Taking the bags off the desk, Nero headed into the kitchen to begin emptying the contents into the cupboards and fridge. Trish followed behind him, settling against the counter.

"Just think of him like a dog - feed him, walk him, entertain him, and you'll be fine."

The thought was an amusing one, Nero admitted, but there was one problem - Dante wasn't a dog. No. Dante was _much_ bigger than a dog, and _much_ more dangerous. Nero had no doubt that if the other wanted to kill him it wouldn't take much effort right now. He supposed he was lucky that, for whatever reason, Dante's devil side seemed to have taken a liking to him. Maybe because he knew that Nero was, like himself, of mixed blood, and felt obligated to befriend him. Or some other notion... Who knew how the devil's mind worked.

"Trish...why did he bring that dog in here? And why the _hell_ won't he- "

Dante had crept into the kitchen and started his purring again - only this time, Nero could feel the other's breath hitting the back of his neck. Almost unconsciously, Nero brought his devil hand up to rub at the spot, cheeks red.

" -leave me al- "

A pair of devil-hide-covered arms had encircled his waist at this point, and Nero - face alight - tugged almost desperately. Eventually he realised Dante's grip wasn't budging (though admittedly it took a good few minutes) and found himself sighing again as he glared harshly at the devil over his shoulder. And Dante, still purring and maybe taking the hateful look as some odd kind of encouragement, began nuzzling into Nero's shoulder.

"Good luck, sweetie!" Trish called, the slam of the doors shutting signalling her leave.

...He _definitely_ hated the pair of evil harpies.

Not that Dante seemed to care much; he was still glued to Nero's back. The younger hunter started thrashing again, elbowing and kicking the other to no avail. Really, though, it hurt Nero more than it did Dante; thick, demonic hide, and all. Stubborn as he was, though, that didn't deter him from trying; he wasn't a cuddle-toy.

"Let go, old man!"

But he didn't. So Nero found himself shuffling forward - while practically dragging the other - into the living room and over to the desk, where he shoved the grease-filled box into Dante's face. Well, as well as he could with the other's head being buried in his neck.

"Dante! Here, pizza!"

The elder couldn't let go of him quick enough, and Nero quickly took the opportunity to put some distance between them. Which wasn't much, to be fair, but Nero felt better laying back on the sofa while Dante was- _'Wait...'_ Dante wasn't over by the desk where he'd left him. Dante was knelt in front of him, pizza box now resting on Nero's knees - who couldn't help it as his stomach grumbled in response to the smell wafting up to meet his nose; it suddenly reminded him he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours. And the old bastard was unknowingly taunting him. Or so Nero hoped for the other's sake that that was the case; god help him if he was doing it on purpose.

The devil pulled the lid open and took out a single slice, cheese stretching in that delicious way to leave Nero's stomach a rumbling mess. Dante then held the piece up in front of the younger hunter's face, eyes alight with _something._ Needless to say, Nero wasn't amused with the teasing and didn't hesitate to let the devil know it - glaring and cursing violently.

"I am _seriously_ going to kill you."

Really; Nero had seriously put some thought into the idea, made a fair few number of plans, in fact; he was no babysitter, and the older devil was really starting to push Nero to his wits end. And this stunt was the worst by far; minutes later - even with the hatred flowing out of Nero in visible waves - Dante still hadn't moved the pizza slice away and was now doing his own fair share of glaring. Not that he had any right, in Nero's opinion; he wasn't the one with food hanging inches from his face while being hungry to the point of feeling sick.

"Piss off, old man."

Dante gave a little growl, pushing the pizza up against Nero's lips. Shocked speechless, it took Nero a few seconds to find his voice. Though, when he had, everyone within a mile of the shop knew it; with Dante still kneeling between his legs, Nero thrashed and kicked in attempt to dislodge the devil.

"You'd _best_ be shitting, Dante! Like hell will I- "

Nero stilled; a clawed hand putting an end to his escape when it pulled at his human arm hard enough to leave bruises. The younger devil's own talons twitched with the need to retaliate, but Nero - as much as he liked the idea of punching the elder hunter in the face right now - wasn't an idiot. If Dante were human and had pulled the same thing, no doubt there'd be a repeat beating of their first fight. But he wasn't, and Nero could feel the strain the pressure of the other's grip was putting on his wrist. Dealing with Dante really was way too troublesome.

Resigned to his fate, Nero shot the hunter-turned-devil a look which promised terrible terrible things - come the day he returned to normal - before he forced himself to let Dante feed him like an infant.

_'I'll take his balls for this one.'_

So with the cheesy food pressed once more to his mouth, he reluctantly pried open his lips to nibble at the slice. The hold on his arm left and the purring started pretty much instantly. And as great as the threat of a broken wrist leaving him was, Nero was still pissed at the other hunter and his antics.

Attentively, Dante watched, his throat rumbling with audible pleasure as his one ate from his hand. Especially after his gift earlier had been so viciously declined. He'd hoped to impress his one with his catch, but his one had been happier with another devil's food than his own, so now Dante wouldn't accept the other's resistance. His one would welcome what he provided with gratitude, as was intended.

The pair were sat there for an hour - Dante feeding Nero and Nero wishing Dante's death between bites. When the box was eventually empty, Nero was allowed to stand up - and it was the movement that allowed Nero to catch the smell. Something had died in the office and it smelt like Dante had been rolling in it. Looked like it, too; the devil's chest was covered in..._rotting dog flesh._ Nero recalled the 'present' from earlier and how he'd so gracefully thrown it back at the other hunter in his fit of rage - which right now, with the stench, didn't seem to have been the best of ideas. Not that it hadn't been rewarding at the time, mind you.

Suddenly the incident from last night hit him; it didn't look as if Dante was well versed with using the bathroom in his current condition - so that meant it fell to Nero to bathe the idiot?

Nero could cope with Dante dressing him up, bringing in animal corpses, glomping him, and - to some extent - hand feeding him. But washing him?

_'Oh, hell no.'_

Determined this was the one thing he wouldn't give in on, Nero moved to chuck the pizza box in the now-empty bin besides the other's desk. Something caught his eye that hadn't before, though; he didn't know Dante played the guitar. Walking over, Nero examined the odd, indigo instrument; it was like no other one he'd seen before. Sure, it resembled all other electric guitars he'd seen before, but the shape was much more sensual; it was curved down into two deadly-looking points. Nero ran his fingers along the edge in appreciation, but pulled back quickly when the sound of screeching reached his ears. The noise reminded Nero of bats - he'd come across plenty in Fortuna; the abandoned castle and newly acquired forest had meant there was plenty of places for them to nest down in. Quickly concluding the instrument was in fact a devil arm, Nero directed his attention to Dante, somewhat disappointed he couldn't question the other about it. He mentally noted it down besides other things to sort out when the elder hunter was back to being his human-self.

Said devil stood watching his one investigate his trophies, chest swelling in satisfaction as his one turned to look at him and acknowledge his strength. Walking up behind the other, Dante slipped his arms around his one's waist (who had returned to observing the wall-mounted weapons), purring contentedly into Nero's delicately pale neck.

"Dante! For fuck sake!" Nero shouted, pushing against the devil's hold on him. "You reek like death!"

Of course, though, Dante didn't care for or understand Nero's words, and Nero found his earlier resolve crumbling; perhaps he'd should bathe the other. Not for his sake, but for Nero's; afterall, if Dante was going to keep grabbing him then Nero would end up stinking like a corpse, too. And it wasn't the most pleasant of smells. At all.

It took another ten minutes of struggling for Nero to give in. The stench was making his eyes water and he feared his meal would make it's re-entry - and with all the effort it took to eat, damned to hell would he throw it back up. So he grabbed the toiletries Trish has bought and once more was shuffling along with the devil attached to his back, grumbling and cursing under his breath. It wasn't long until he encountered a problem, however - one he absolutely refused to fix himself.

There was absolutely no way Nero would be carrying Dante up the stairs.

So instead he tried the only thing he could think of in his position. He pointed at the stairs and called the other's name - gesturing with a nod of his head for extra measure. But Nero was all-too-quick to regret his decision; because then he was the one being carried up the stairs. Dante took the steps two at a time, holding Nero's weight by his midriff; thrilled that his one wanted to be in his room.

When they reached the top Dante was purring like a cat about to lap up milk. It came to a swift stop, though, when the devil noticed his one wasn't guiding them to his sleeping quarters. No, his one was going into the strange room with the magic water-makers. Dante was sure to make a fuss; pulling on the his one's waist and growling his protests.

"Stop whining, you big baby."

Taps on and water running, Nero began wrestling to get Dante into the tub. But even with all Nero's efforts, Dante was still sulking - refusing with grumbles and tugs to Nero's hips.

"Just get in, old man, it won't kill you!"

Not that Dante seemed to agree with him.

Nero gave a sigh. This had been his last resort, but it looked as if he had no choice but to use it: Turning so that both he and his cargo's backs were to the bath, Nero threw all his weight onto Dante. The devil's knees buckled as they hit the edge of the tub and the pair dropped down into the water with a heavy splash.

Determined to get it over and done with as fast as he possibly could, Nero turned to straddle the other, soaping up a sponge. He'd also noticed Dante was quick to stop struggling after they'd took their tumble - and not one to question an opportunity when he saw it, Nero began scrubbing at the devil's chest; determined to wash off the putrid smell. It wasn't easy to ignore Dante's purring, but he managed it and hastily stood up when he'd finished, tugging off his soaked-through jeans and shirt and began patting himself down with one of the salvageable towels he'd pulled from Dante's makeshift cocoon.

"I swear, Dante, you're the most irritating jack-ass I've ever met."

The jack-ass of which was still purring away; eyeing his one's uncovered skin with hungry appreciation. Sitting as he had while his one had groomed him so made Dante puff-up with pride and he wished to give back the favour - examine Nero's form so thoroughly his muscle would turn numb.

Growling heatedly at the idea, Dante all but leapt at the other, yanking him back down into his lap with a satisfied huff.

"Dant-!"

Nero couldn't help what happened. He really couldn't. Because other than Kyrie, who gave him only the occasional hug, Nero wasn't used to any form of physical contact; even though the stares and judgement wasn't as bed as before the Savior incident, people still avoided him whenever possible. So when Dante unexpectedly ran his talons along his bare back Nero couldn't keep the giggle at bay - try as he might.

He had but a second of respite after his outburst before Dante decided to make use of his discovery. Grinning madly, the devil scratched his claws over every inch of skin he could find. Nero squirmed madly and thrashed out blindly as attempted to find the air to curse the other between his hysterical laughter. But at this point he was in tears and could do nothing other than choke on his own breath. Water sloshed out of the tub, drenching the floor and Nero's clothes further. For which Nero would've hit the devil - if he could breathe.

In the moment of his madness, Nero had unknowingly moved himself so he lay over the edge of the bath in his attempts to crawl away, and Dante had followed the other so they were practically spooning one another. It was only when the devil realised this that he stopped his torment in favour of nuzzling Nero's neck.

The younger hunter - who was panting heavily as he tried to calm himself down - froze when he felt the wet heat of a tongue trailing up over his spine and to his ear. It was the sharp nibbling of fangs and the content purring vibrating on his back which brought him back from his stupor, and he was facing Dante in a flash, Devil Arm up and glowing furiously. The other's pleased expression just pissed him off more and Nero didn't give another thought to socking the devil straight on his nose.

Nero was fuming; face stained red and chest tight with anger as he stormed down the stairs with his clothes in hand, not caring for his state of undress. Dante was seemingly stunned into place, confusion twisting about in his own chest.

All was forgiven in mere seconds, though, and Dante was trailing along after his one out the bathroom, smirking with pleasure.

**"Mine one."**


	4. Devil Farming

**Author's Notes: **Sorry the update took longer than some of you can cope with. I had a lot of crap on my hands and was stressed to the point of puking and crying. Which never happens to me. Then my internet died for a few days and I got stuck with what I wanted to do with the story. Thinking about it gave me so many headaches I've lost count... Then when I was actually starting to make progress I lost a good load of the document and had to redo nearly half of the chapter. BUT! Here it is! I've managed, somehow, and here it is! Thank you for the continued support and here you are!

Oh, and thank you for the reviews, all you unknowns! I would reply, but I can't and I don't like posting them on here. So thank you!

* * *

**- - Demonic Courting - -**

Looking back, Nero decided that waking up in a cocoon of clothes, towels, and blankets wasn't such a bad way to greet the morning. Compared to this, anyhow; he was tangled in trinkets, for one. Which _was _irritating, but when compared to the other problems, was nothing, really: he was in Dante's bedroom, in Dante's bed, in Dante's arms - two of which he didn't recall falling asleep in.

_'And damn does this bastard have a good grip.'_

When trying to leave without waking the other only resulted in Dante tightening his hold to the point Nero could barely breath. The younger man decided to give up on tact, and instead opted for violence - which didn't work out too well, either; Dante had such a tight hold on him he could barely even _move _his limbs, let alone hit the other hunter.

Exhausted, Nero give in with a huff; now thoroughly pissed off. He was no maiden, and he wasn't about to play one. He'd get out of bed when he pleased, not when Dante decided to wake up and let him go.

_'If the old bastard lets me go at all, that is.'_

Which Nero highly doubted; the other was surprisingly stubborn about such things at the moment.

There had been plenty of expectations when he'd first found Dante in this state, but none of them had led to this; to the cuddling and the clinging and the pure childishness of the other hunter. Dante was both a hard-ass and smart-ass and Nero had expected his demon side to be nothing less.

_'Though,'_ Nero mused, _'I suppose they aren't that different; the idiot's childish either way.'_

A prime example of that would be how he ended up where he was in the first place - and recalling the memory, Nero gave both a chuckle and a cringe.

_Nero's mood hadn't changed much since the bathroom incident and he'd treated Dante as if he were the plague itself; much of the rest of the night had been spent throwing things and fits at the other whenever he got too close. Dante eventually seemed to get the message and had sat himself in the corner by his desk, sulking. Which at first had been highly amusing to the younger hunter; the other looked like a scolded child in the naughty corner. But three hours later, and with no movement from the devil, it had become rather pitiful. So pitiful, in fact, Nero couldn't possibly ignore it anymore; he had an odd feeling if he did he'd wake up tomorrow and find Dante in the exact same state as he was now._

_Giving a sigh of defeat, Nero pushed himself up from the couch and made his way over to the desk, scooping up the pile of trinkets still there from the night before and moved over to sit in front of the moody devil. Dante watched him in curious silence, stubbornly refusing to move from his corner. Though the collection of jewelry being placed between them caught his attention - and when Nero held out one of the items for him to take, Dante forgot all about why he was moping in the first place._

_For the next hour Nero let himself be re-covered in the assortment of charms without a single complaint. And for the next hour after that one Dante had clung and purred and nuzzled at the other (Nero having given up on escaping after the first ten minutes) before he fell asleep. Nero had chuckled, following the devil's example not long after._

'I really am a teddy bear, huh?'

_"Stupid Dante."_

However, there was one problem with that memory (besides the obvious factor), Nero concluded; he hadn't fallen asleep _here_,which meant that Dante had woken up and carried him here at some point during the night. And Nero wasn't happy about the development. At all. So he'd simply remove himself from it, and none too nicely.

Smirking, Nero found and pulled at Yamato's presence, drawing the sword out with a yell and release of his trigger - the shock-wave from which woke Dante and sent him flying back into the wall with a satisfying _crack _of splitting plaster. Said devil quickly pulled himself up with a growl, ready to protect his one from whatever dared enter their nest, but was left baffled as Nero all but strutted from the room with a smug grin and call of;

"Try and pull that one again, old man!"

And Nero had no doubt that he would.

* * *

The remainder of the morning had dragged.

After sorting out Dante, Nero had made himself and the other breakfast, only to have to sit through being hand-fed all over again. Then he'd started removing the numerous trinkets from himself, only to have Dante fuss over the amulet and bracelet again. So giving in and keeping them on, Nero had headed up the the stairs to shower, only to stop dead once he reached the doorway; remembering the stunt Dante pulled had him flushing deep red and rubbing subconsciously at his neck. Having the idiot-devil breathing down on him didn't help matters, either, and Nero stomped back down the stairs with a huff; not wanting to go through that one again.

Lady and Trish hadn't visited (which Nero couldn't decide whether to be thankful for or not) to break up the pace, and Dante wouldn't move more than two meters away from his side; no matter where in the shop Nero went, the devil was right behind him, and despite his best efforts, it was beginning to wear on Nero's nerves.

Right now he was sat back on the sofa, attempting to ignore the idiot latched onto his side and wishing almost desperately for something to happen.

So when the phone started ringing, Nero couldn't jump up quick enough, and of course, Dante followed, watching curiously as Nero spoke into the odd device. The answering voice on the other end startled the elder and, much to Nero's amusement, he gave a heavy growl at the machine as he pulled back on Nero's waist.

_'Because the phone's going to bite me,' _Nero chuckled.

"Oh, thank the damn lord! Listen here; these demon pests are running amok in my fields, boy - completely ruining the harvest. I trust you'll come and sort them, eh?"

Frowning at the man's attitude, Nero gave his own growl into the phone.

"Not for free I won't, you- "

"Until you've seen them off I ain't givin' a single cent; what'll I do if all the crops are killed off with 'em, eh?"

Nero's hand tightened around the phone cord; dealing with the customers had never been his favourite part of his profession; most were like this; would attempt to get around paying anything more than the bare minimum - sometimes even paying at all - and it seemed that that was the case here in Capulet, too.

"Then get someone else, you old bastard; I ain't doing shit without knowing the payment."

"You fucking bra-"

A loud crash of shattering glass and several gun shots could be heard over the line and the man's cursing. Nero tapped his foot impatiently, having half the mind to hang up and leave the man to his business; dealing with Dante had withered away at Nero's patience to the point it was virtually non-existent.

"Fine! Three-hundred! And if you fuck up my crops I'm halving it, y'hear?"

Nero turned and called to Dante after noting down the address and grabbing up his coat and weapons, but the devil was still stood glaring down at the phone, talons twitching and throat rumbling as if daring the machine to let out a single sound more.

"Dante," Nero laughed, gesturing towards the door when the other turned. "Get your scaly ass moving."

He supposed taking Dante out like this wasn't the cleverest stunt he could pull right now, but Nero had an ingenious idea which was sure to work even on the 'legendary' son of Sparda. Besides that, though, Nero trusted the idiot enough to not go off and chew on some civilian for his lunch. Dogs, though... He'd have to watch out for that. The devil's history with those wasn't the best, after all, and Nero didn't want any more rabies-infested presents.

When they were out the shop, Nero followed his nose to the nearest fast-food restaurant (a mere block away) and ordered the most meat-stuffed pizza the place had to offer. Surprisingly, the most people did was stare and make the odd comment at the elder's appearance, rather than run screaming in fear as Nero had expected. But then, Nero suspected the people of Capulet had likely seen much worse and scarier than a red devil trailing along behind a white-haired, scaly-armed half devil like a lost puppy. Said idiot of which was currently playing with Blue Rose (Nero had long since removed the bullets), opening and closing the gun's cylinder with fascination. It put an odd smile on Nero's face to see what was supposed to be such a hard-ass devil so engrossed in such a simplistic act.

"Yo, man!" the counter-boy called, gum popping. "You related to the devil hunter down the street or somethin'? You got the same hair 'nd shit."

Nero raised an eyebrow, snorting. "To Dante? Not a fucking chance."

Perking up at his name, the devil abandoned the revolver in favour of grabbing Nero's waist and pulling the younger man back into his chest - and of course, completely ignoring Nero's struggles to escape his grip. The server gave a laugh as he handed over their order.

"So what's with the pet devil, man? He your sidekick, or some shit?"

Snatching the box up, Nero left the place with a stomp and snarl and Dante still attached to his back. They walked a block up and into a nearby alley before Nero presented the devil with the greasy food. As expected, though, he wouldn't take it; every time Nero had offered the other food Dante had refused it in stead of feeding it back to him. So this time Nero held up a slice of the fast food to Dante's lips, cursing death all the while. And he swore the devil had never purred so much in the past two days as he did then.

"I can't believe you've got me hand feeding you, you senile bastard."

That was how they got to the farm. Nero would walk five meters, bribe Dante with pizza, walk another five, and repeat the process. It was slow, annoying, and earned them more than their fair share of odd looks, but it got them there without incident, so now all he had to worry about was getting them back. Nero was hoping, though, that the elder would've had such a nice time killing on demons he'd be in too much of a good mood to bother running off. And at least Nero didn't have to worry about adding an hour onto the trip because he didn't know where he was going.

"You! It's about bloody time! Those demons have - the _hell _is that thing?" The farmer yelled as Nero approached.

"My sidekick," Nero smirked as he walked passed the man, looking over at the grumbling devil beside him. It seemed Dante wasn't a fan of the man's attitude, either, and Nero honestly couldn't guarantee he'd stop the other hunter should he decide to chew on the man. Not straight away.

Finding the demons was an easy enough task; even if Nero hadn't had his bringer, the amount of damage they had caused left a perfectly clear trail to follow. And dispatching them would be just as easy a feat - though Nero was pissed to find he wasn't permitted to join in on the fun.

When they'd come across the group of low class devils, Dante had puffed up his chest and turned to Nero with such a self-satisfied look in his eyes the younger man _knew _he was up to something. Nero had just tutted and turned away; uninterested in the idiot's games. He didn't get further than a few steps, though; Dante was there playing wall straight away, holding Nero in place by his shoulders and growling lowly in warning. At first Nero hadn't cared for the other's behaviour and had attempted to push by. Not that it worked. Claws dug through the fabric of his coat and into his skin hard enough to have him hissing as Dante moved him back into place.

**_'Don't challenge it.'_**

Lady's words flickered through his mind at that point, making Nero think that pushing further wasn't the best idea. So far the devil had been harmless. To the point Nero had forgotten just what he'd be capable of if he tried.

Starting a spar with Dante wasn't the issue; it was fun, pushing his own limits and seeing just how far he could stretch himself; there was no need for holding back with Dante; the idiot could take a sword through the heart and be back up and breathing in seconds. But that was when Dante was _Dante, _not his devil self. When he could control himself, stop himself from going too far. Nero could heal pretty quickly, himself, but there were certain things he didn't fancy putting his body through. A break to his spine, for example. Nero didn't think his chances of recovery for that one were too good. And _that _was the problem. Would Dante realize this as he was now? Would he even _care?_

Nero didn't fancy testing that out.

So for now he'd given in, as much as he hated letting the devil get his own way, and content himself with promising himself that Dante would pay for this (as well as everything else) when he was back to 'normal.'

When he was satisfied Nero wasn't going to move, Dante took off into the field to make quick work of beheading every last one of the demons. Task complete, Nero found himself being dragged over into the centre of the corpses. It was disgusting. Demon guts coloured the grass and the smell was eye-watering. But Dante stood there with his head held high enough you'd think he'd solved every mystery in the universe and created world peace.

"Yeah yeah," Nero patted the devil on the arm. "Good for you, old man."

All there was to do now was collect the payment and get back to the shop. Before dark, preferably; easier to keep an eye on the idiot, that way. Which meant they had to be quick. Already the skies were turning that mix of pink and orange that signals the coming of night. It seemed that first, though, Dante had the lovely idea of tackling Nero onto the ground that he wanted to try. The whole while Nero's face was in the dirt Dante was purring and nuzzling his neck. Needless to say, the younger hunter snapped at that point.

_"Dante! _I'm going to shove Red Queen so far up your ass you won't _ever _heal right!"

* * *

The pair hadn't got back until almost midnight.

It had taken an hour and Nero triggering again to get the elder off his back, another hour to track down the disappearing farmer and get their pay, and then another few hours to get back to the shop; every few steps Nero was having to shake Dante off or pull him away from whatever distraction he'd found. Luckily, though, the only people about at that time were either homeless or so drunk they couldn't walk, so Nero didn't have to worry much on that end, but having to stop every time Dante saw a cat or decided an alley looked interesting had withered Nero's nerves down into nothingness.

Now they were back, and the first thing Nero was doing? Getting out of these gut-ridden clothes.

Grumbling under his breath he took to the basement stairs he'd found during his exploring earlier in the day - Dante following, of course - stripping off his clothes as he went. Nero had been shocked to discover the _working _washer and dryer stored in the basement (seeing as Dante seemed more the type to wait until he could no longer get away with the smell and then badger some poor soul into taking care of the problem for him). With the current state of his clothes, though, he couldn't be more grateful.

Reaching the machine in only his boxers, Nero shoved his clothes into the washer with whatever detergent he could salvage from the box beside it, slammed the door shut, and waited; he refused to wonder around the shop in this state.

As he stood there waiting the chill of the air and the pure concrete floor had him shivering violently. Still, he stubbornly stood beside the machine in wait, completely ignoring the idiot playing dog behind him.

Dante, meanwhile, couldn't understand why his one had thrown away his coverings. Not when they were his source of warmth. Though he was happy that the scent of those unworthy demons wasn't as potent. But his one wasn't content, as he should be, which wasn't acceptable. He took off with a snort and headed up both sets of stairs within the building and into the main bedroom. Nero watched in astonishment; all day he'd been trying to get the other to leave him along, and here Dante was giving it to him voluntarily. Hell, the idiot was gone long enough for the washer to finish and for Nero to swap the clothes over into the dryer. A small growl had him turning around with a start, though, and what he saw was oddly...touching.

Dante was stood there holding a single piece of fabric in hand with such care at to not tear it that Nero couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Thanks, old man, but don't think this means I forgive you for being an ass."

Taking the clothing from the other, Nero noticed it was an over-sized red hoody. The zip was broken and even with the care the devil had taken there were a few talon-caused holes littering the jacket. Despite that, however, Nero slipped it on; the expectant puppy look in Dante's orbs didn't leave him any other option, really.

More purring and cuddling ensued; all Dante could register was that his one was wearing his colour. _  
_

"I give up, you old bastard. You win for today."

Tomorrow he'd definitely teach the devil a lesson. Not that it'd stick.


End file.
